She wrapped herself around him
Like kudzu in the summertime,
Lilted air of honeysuckle arising
From all that was woman.
The morning was new-
And all that she was
Fit neatly into a flowing box of multi
Sensual dimensions in the center of his mind.
He started at the hairline,
Tasting every second of her nectar,
Praying for the vivid picture
Of a lucid eternity.
Her eyes stung him,
Sharp and quick
Like a cobra's tongue
In the mating season.
The hood unfolds, The dance entwines.
Her grasp, her heat
Pulls him in,
Passionate, powerless,
The sweet venom engorges him...
She meant to be caught,
The clutch was secure.
He held her on the pinnacle of release,
Waiting to push her over
Into her orgasmic oblivion.
He would not pollinate
The gentle flower,
Not in this season-
Simply to suck her nectar dry.
The taste hung on his lips
As close as his own name-
Fed him like water in a drought
Touching a slaked tongue for the first time.
If the vine should fade
And perhaps only for a while,
It will arrive again with a fury
And the scent of their love shall be on the air.
Tsani Jones
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-her-senses/
